


Not Even a Sidekick

by frogs_of_war



Series: Soldiers, Knights, Wizards, and Kings [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Mages, Magic, Quests, Siblings, eternal youth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogs_of_war/pseuds/frogs_of_war
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin might be the hanger-on of a sidekick, but he knows just the Mage his team needs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Even a Sidekick

"Don't worry, Gavin," said Freyja, "you can leave everything to us."

Like always, he thought wandering away. Not that he could help anyway. He couldn't do anything. As a child he'd been so happy when a Mage Seeker came through his village; he was told he had a large amount of magic. But that only made the disappointment greater when the Mage Tester found him unable to use it.

His family reminded him that even though a half of the population has some form of magic, less than five percent could actually use it to any degree, and only ten percent of those had enough to be called a Mage. Their consolation hadn't helped. Both Freyja and Tyr were that one half of one percent in their fields.

And now they needed a Mage. One who could actually do magic.

Gavin wouldn't be any help. He couldn't be. His siblings didn't even trust him to find firewood.

When his mother died, Freyja and Tyr decided it was time to follow in their parent's footsteps and came to Zoran's Gate to find a group to go questing with. It hadn't taken them long. Why would it? Tyr was brave, strong, and true. And he looked it, with his tall body, budging muscles, and tan skin. He was also very smart. At least compared to everyone else. But compared to Freyja, his older sister, he was an idiot.

Freyja was born a genius and she'd never outgrown it. She was the type who won every strategy game she ever played. And she could fight. They were the product of several generations of selective breeding. All their ancestors, for as far back as anyone had been keeping track, were Questers. With all this going for them, they didn't have to be beautiful. But they were.

And the only reason that they considered Gavin their brother at all, as plain and normal as he was, was that their mother had been fostered to his grandparents as a small child and she considered his mother her younger sister. Whenever Freyja and Tyr's parents started a quest where numbers mattered, they dropped their children off with Gavin's mother.

But on one of these quests they’d died, betrayed by someone they trusted. And the two children stayed on with Gavin's mother, having nowhere else to go. They always stood out in the village. Bigger, stronger, and smarter than anyone else. They shone like candles at twilight, while Gavin was just another moth.

No, not even a moth. When Freyja agreed to join Leon's group, she stipulated that Gavin was always counted but that he was assigned no duties. If something needed done, Freyja or Tyr would do it. That was because Gavin had no skills.

It couldn't be helped.

Zoran's Gate was full right now with other Questers, all looking to find the necessary seven members. Warriors hung out in Huddle's square, which was ringed by pubs. Bards preferred Fountain Square where young women collected water for their homes. Priest stayed at the Cathedral. Healers were quickly snatched up and Thieves wandered and were hard to find. Princes and other Royalty lived in the Castle. And Mages gathered in Western Square, which was almost an extension of the Mage University.

But the Mage Gavin was looking for wouldn't be there. He didn’t spend most of his time among his own kind. Most Mages only agreed to one Quest, but this Mage, the Cappellian Mage, did things differently.

He was sitting on the front steps of a boarding house exactly were Gavin had seen him the day before. But today Gavin was alone, his own man, not the hanger on of a sidekick. Today was the day he would talk to the beautiful man. And find out his name.

With nowhere to watch from or hide, Gavin had no choice but to walk up and start talking. He could do this; he wasn't as brave as a Quester, but he was no coward either.

The Cappellian Mage wore a robe of midnight blue with just the faintest sheen as if made of heavy silk. His dark hair was graying at the temples and he had the barest of winkles around his bright blue eyes which followed Gavin as he came closer. When Gavin stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the Mage spoke. "Come up, my young cub, and have a seat."

Why did Gavin look so young? Tyr, who was the same age as Gavin, looked older than he was. At twelve he'd been as tall as most men; Gavin on the other hand had looked twelve when he was seventeen.

But enough of that. Gavin took the offered place. "Sir," he asked, starting small. "Why do Mages always wear robes? Don't you swelter all summer and freeze all winter?"

The Mage smiled. "What kind of Mage would I be if I couldn't regulate my temperature? Even in the rain I can keep the water and mud off me. I can do it for others as well."

That Gavin didn't doubt; the Cappellian Mage was the most powerful Mage outside of the University, maybe even counting them. What Gavin did doubt was the implication that the Mage would do this for him. Gavin turned away and looked up the street, watching a Wagoner try to negotiate an intersection full of pedestrians. These same people would probably shout obscenities at any Innkeeper whose ale ran dry because the Wagoner was unable to deliver. But the Wagoner was a professional and forced his way through by getting down and leading his horses across.

"My young friend," the Mage touched Gavin’s thigh. "That was a question you could have asked any Mage. What did you want to ask me?"

The Mage's hand on Gavin's leg made it hard to think, but he managed to form his real question. "I have heard that Mages are celibate, but that Cappellians can't live without it. What do you do?"

"There is no rule against sex, just against having it with someone of the opposite gender. So I look for pretty young men like you."

That was a lie. Gavin twisted his face into the same disbelieving expression he used when Shazara expressed her undying love. Or told him he was beautiful. Or really any compliment given by the lying seductress.

The Mage laughed and stood up. "You don't believe me. Come in and I'll show you; Cappellians are the best lovers in the world."

Gavin stood up, but didn't look at the Mage as he took his hand. The Cappellian Mage laughed again. "I will show you."

The Mage's room was on the top floor and overlooked the street. It was comfortable furnished, but not cluttered. A bed, covered with fluffy pillows and embroidered blankets, was against one wall and a stuffed chair sat before the fire. A table under the window had a large silver bowl full of liquid on top but no chairs.

A full bookshelf sat against the wall by the door. Gavin wasn't given the chance to see anymore, but he did find out how the Mage's hands felt against his skin and the joy one person could give another.

The room was darkening when Gavin came back to himself. If he didn't leave soon, his siblings would come looking for him. He couldn't let that happen.

"What do you think?" the Mage asked, running his fingers along Gavin's side. "Aren't Cappellians the best?"

"Once could be a fluke." Gavin turned over and sat up. He remembered Freyja's lessons. "You must test a hypothesis several times before you should believe it."

"If you want more," the Mage said, breathlessly, running his hands up Gavin's back and down his arms, "all you have to do is ask."

"I can't." Gavin shrugged off the Mage's hands and got out of the bed. "Maybe tomorrow."

The Mage sighed. "Stay with me."

"No."

"Why?"

Gavin rooted around on the floor for his clothes. Not that most of them weren't his; the Mage only had the robe, underpants, and slippers. Gavin finally found his second stocking under the bed. "I don't want to be found here."

The Mages eyebrows came down as he lost all good humor. "Why?"

Gavin pulled on his boots and grabbed his vest. "You are my secret."

"Why?"

"My only secret." Gavin sighed. With his hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at the beautiful man still sitting naked in the bed, "I forgot to ask. What's your name?"

"My name?"

"I don't want to think of you as the Cappellian Mage." Gavin looked at the floor. "Especially not now."

Humor returned to the beautiful face. "My name is Caoimhghín Nathraichean. And you are Gavin, Leon Stillwater's sidekick."

"I'm not even a sidekick," Gavin shrugged off the helpless hopelessness that thought gave him. "Until tomorrow, Keeveen."

The Mage didn't wince at Gavin attempt at his name. He smiled. "'Til tomorrow."

Freyja and the others were sitting around a table in the great room of the inn when Gavin walked in. She looked him over but didn't stop her discussion. Something big must be up.

Shazara got up and flung herself onto Gavin. "My love, I have missed you so. I thought I would die without you."

Gavin stared down at the woman who was draping herself around his neck. She was a Cappellian, too. But she never drew him the way Caoimhghín did. "Sorry, Shazara. I didn't believe that at all."

"But you should." she pouted. Then her eyes went wide. "Who have you been cheating on me with?"

No one else was paying them any attention, luckily. He pried her small fingers from his neck. "Why would I cheat on you? You're the most beautiful woman in the world."

Shazara laughed. "So you are not such a cold fish after all. For the compliment I will keep your secret."

She went back to the table and draped herself across a Quester from a different group as he complained about the Mage University and their strangle hold on the Mages.

Gavin climbed the stairs to his empty room. The bed was his even though he was useless. Tyr thought he was too delicate to sleep on the floor. Gavin crawled into the bed, only taking off his boots. The smell of Caoimhghín overpowered the smell of the much-used bedding and lulled him to sleep and dreams.

The next morning Gavin woke before everyone else. Last evening with Caoimhghín might have cured his insomnia. He'd try again today.

He was finished with his breakfast before Freyja and Tyr came down to check on him. They didn't have a chance to question him; Leon was just behind them. Dameon had woken Leon up just before dawn with news. Bartimus, a Quester known for his underhanded tricks, had been seen around town. It was now even more important to find a True Mage quickly. None of them looked at Gavin when they said True Mage, but he felt their glances anyway.

He got up. "Gavin," Freyja said, cutting Leon off. "Why don't you stay here today?"

"And do what?"

She didn't have an answer; he left before she could think of one. Caoimhghín would be happy to see him.

He was.

Caoimhghín wasn't as quick pull him into bed, but he made up for it by showing Gavin magic. First, he pulled a second stuffed chair from a small limp sack.

Then he showed off a large book that spoke and had pictures that moved. Gavin particularly liked the story of the young goatherd who defeated the dragon. Not that Gavin could ever do anything as great as that.

One story was a romance between a king and one of his bodyguards, a young woman dressed as a man. Watching the figures fail yet again to find a moment alone, Gavin asked, "Why can't you sleep with a woman?"

"Besides my disinterest?" Caoimhghín looked up from the silver bowl. "Men and woman have different kinds of Magics. And when they are locked together in a sacred act, the Magic reacts.

"Normal people don't notice, but Mages must find partners without a drop of Magic or else they can be sucked dry. Even you probably become uncomfortable when a woman touches too much of you."

Gavin nodded, thinking of Shazara.

"You're not thinking of your mother." Caoimhghín cocked his head to look Gavin over. "I think I am jealous."

"No need to be." Gavin set the book down, came to Caoimhghín side, and quickly found the fastenings that held the robe closed.

Caoimhghín was easily distracted. Watching Caoimhghín gasp for breath after a particularly vigorous bout of activity, Gavin was glad to be young. "It is hard," Caoimhghín said between gasps, "not to suck… your power…. It sits there… within reach… taunting me."

Gavin propped himself on his elbow and looked down at his lover. "Why not take it?"

"It's wrong… to take what's… not mine."

"Everything that's mine," Gavin leaned down until their lips almost touched, "is yours."

That kiss was the best Gavin ever had. Ever nerve in his body seemed to explode at once. The kiss seemed to have the same effect on Caoimhghín. He looked healthier, more vigorous, younger than he had moments before.

"Oh." Caoimhghín several deep breathes. "No one has ever pushed magic at me before. I thought I'd died. But are you all right? I took quite a bit."

"I'm no more tired than I was when you were finished with me yesterday."

"I wasn't finished with you," Caoimhghín caressed his hands up Gavin's arms and ran his fingers though his hair. "You left, remember. Are you leaving tonight?"

Gavin slowly moved down Caoimhghín body, caressing the Mage's neck and chest with just his breath. He breathed against Caoimhghín belly, "Make me want to stay."

Caoimhghín was good at persuasion and Gavin didn't want to leave. If the others wondered where he was, Shazara would share her little secret and the men, at least, would stop worrying.

Freyja still would, but for once Gavin didn't care. He would be his own man. And a man not a boy. Being the lover of this Mage beneath him was the first thing Gavin had ever felt he was better at than anyone else. He would prove it tonight.

Gavin woke well after dark, Caoimhghín's head on his shoulder, arm across his chest, and leg twined around his own. Having him close felt right. And Gavin didn't miss the extra Magic. Not that it had done him any good when it was in him.

The room glowed green from the liquid in the silver bowl, the embers of the fire no longer giving off light. What was in the bowl? Maybe Caoimhghín would show him tomorrow.

He snuggled closer to his lover and fell asleep.

Waking he found the fire already lit and Caoimhghín awake, but not yet out of bed. "Isn't Magic great?" the Mage gestured towards the fire. "But we have to get up. Or at least I do. I think the University wants me to try to authenticate Bartimus's Golden Orb. I don't think it's real. If it was, he'd have let us see it. Even you would be able to tell if it was real."

"Even me?"

"Yes." Caoimhghín, slipped from the sheets and pulled on his robe. "Magic pulls Magic. You would find it nearly as fascinating as I find you."

As he turned away, he asked, "How is it that you carry so much Magic? You have more than I do."

Gavin sat up in time to see Caoimhghín pick up a small piece of paper from the table. He marked on it with quill that Gavin was sure had not been in the pocket Caoimhghín pulled it from and then the paper disappeared.

"My mom couldn't go adventuring. She had to stay with her family. For several years hearing about her sister's adventures was enough, but when she realized she wasn't ever going to marry or even leave home, she seduced a passing Mage," Gavin said, getting out of bed himself. "She never even got his name, but she did get me. Which is why I've always wondered about the celibate thing."

"That wasn't a proposition?" Caoimhghín’s eyebrows rose. He lifted the tray that had just appeared where the paper had disappeared. "Well, here's breakfast. I hope I ordered enough. You're a growing boy."

"I'm almost twenty-five."

"That has little to do with anything." Caoimhghín set two bowls of oatmeal, a long loaf of bread, and several pots of jam on the table. "The more Magic you carry, the slower you age. Most Mages' powers come with maturity, but some have the misfortune of coming to it early. I, for example, took nearly twenty years to reach four feet tall. I was a baby forever. Or so my mother says. Both my parents are Mages. I was their only… joint project."

He pulled two wooden chairs from the limp sack and gestured for Gavin to sit in the first. "Some Mages at the University, my parents among them, thought that with selective breeding Mages could build up a race. But the experiment nearly killed my both my parents. My dad during the act—the Magics' reaction is always harder on the male.

"Oh," he looked at the table. "I forgot to order drinks." He grabbed the scrap of paper from the tray, wrote on it, and waved his hand. The tray disappeared, reappearing a moment later with two steaming mugs.

"Anyway. If I had been a normal Mage child, there wouldn't have been a problem, but my premature Magic reacted with my mother's. She was forced into constant vigilance, siphoning off just enough of my Magic to keep it from reacting to hers and killing me, but not so much that I would die for lack of it. Drinking in all that male Magic nearly killed her.

"Even before I was born, the University scrapped the experiment as a failure. Now, they pay the siblings of Mages to have children. A roundabout method, but less lethal to the participants."

Gavin found the conversion interesting, but not half so much as Caoimhghín nonchalant use Magic. He'd met Mages before, but none of them treated it as casually as Caoimhghín. Once they'd been caught in a storm and the Mage refused to help light the wet wood. That had been a very cold night.

"Eat up." Caoimhghín lifted his spoon. "It's from Eagle's Mane Inn. They cook the best breakfast hereabouts. I can transport food up to five hundred miles. After that it loses some of its heat. And who wants to eat lukewarm oatmeal?"

Gavin waited until Caoimhghín took a bite then he dug in. He emptied his bowl and ate three quarters of the loaf and nearly all the jam. Then he stretched, allowing all that wonderful food to settle in his stomach. The food was as good as the stew Caoimhghín feed him the night before. The spices reminded him of his mother's cooking.

Caoimhghín waved his hand as Gavin got up to put on his boots. "Don't leave yet. We can walk together towards the University. Your inn is that way."

He looked into the silver bowl and spoke a few word in another language and then said, "Tell the pres I'm on my way," he pause for several seconds before continuing, "That wasn't disrespect. If I'd been trying to be disrespectful I'd have told him to come by my place."

Caoimhghín waved his hand above the bowl and then he looked up at Gavin. "That guy thinks he's so great just because he's the University President's Assistant. But I'm the only son his boss will ever father. Or is that childish?"

"It's all right to be childish sometimes." Gavin was often enough. "But anyway, how old are you?"

Caoimhghín opened the door and led him down the stairs. "In human years, several decades. In crazy Mage years? I'd say forty-ish yesterday morning, but closer to eighteen after your very impressive kiss."

The solid black of Caoimhghín's hair wasn't simple a trick of the light and even in the harsh sun not a wrinkle blemished his youthful face.

"Is that normal?"

"No, not even for a Mage."

When they got down to the street Caoimhghín took Gavin's hand. Gavin felt the eyes of strangers upon him. But if the man's hand he was holding was Caoimhghín's, then everything was all right.

"Most Mages hold their apparent age when they acquire enough power, but no one else gets younger. Like my dad says, I've always been an odd duck." Caoimhghín sighed and waited for a Wagoner to pass. "In fact that's what the Golden Orb supposedly does: make Mages younger."

"What's the point in that?"

"Exactly. But the Golden Orb is a much coveted item. The University Mages want it so badly they aren't allowing any Mages to join in this Quest. That's Bartimus's requirement for returning it. He says he has it and if it's truly in Zoran's Gate then I will feel it. I'm more in tune with Magic than most of the others." He breathed a sigh that tore at Gavin's heart.

Gavin tugged his hand and looked into his eyes. "I wouldn't be with you now if you were like all the others. I like you the way you are."

Caoimhghín smiled again. "I'm glad. Are you coming tonight? My dad will make me stay for dinner, but the door will open for you if you get there before me."

Gavin left Caoimhghín at Cooper's Square, only blocks from the White Feather Inn where Leon always stayed. He wished he were brave enough to kiss his lover goodbye. He'd make it up tonight.

None of his group were in the inn, but the Innkeeper gave him a message from his sister saying not to leave until she got back. He'd expected that. He threw himself on the bed. Too bad he hadn't asked Caoimhghín to borrow that big book. Now he was lonely and bored and would be until someone came back to the inn, then he'd be bored with company.

He tried to sleep, but kept thinking of Caoimhghín. Not that he was bad to think of, but he didn't want to be walked in on when he was doing it.

Maybe he should get his pack ready for travel. His bedding needed washed or at least airing and the inn was empty or had been when he came upstairs. The Innkeeper was happy to put his daughter to Gavin's service and they spent a comfortable few hours telling each other the most outrageous stories they had ever heard about the most famous Quester they had ever met, while they worked to clean and air his travel bedding and clothes.

The girl insisted that Brand of the Onyx Sword snored loud enough to shake the rafters, and Gavin told about when he'd discovered that William the Brave was deathly afraid of spiders. He'd known this girl for years but never really spoke to her. Maybe meeting Caoimhghín had made it easier to talk to others.

This girl made him help her wring out his bedding and carry the basket full of wet stuff to the lines. She didn't coddle him or assume he couldn't do any job. But then, she normally did all these chores alone. She seemed to like his help.

Once the laundry was hung, she sent him to take a bath while she changed the bedding on his bed, because all of him might as well be clean.

Gavin was reluctant to wash his lover's scent of his skin, but he'd get more of him tonight. How long would the two of them last? How could anyone want him, Gavin, the most useless boy in existence?

But Caoimhghín found him useful. And he seemed to like him around. And he'd been invited back.

Gavin looked out the small high windows of the bathhouse willing the sky to darken. How many hours until he saw Caoimhghín again?

A knock at the door announced the Innkeeper's daughter. She had his clean clothes and was ready for his dirties. He told her to come in. It wasn't like he cared if she saw anything.

She put his clean clothes on a bench by the door along with a fluffy towel and quickly gathered his dirty ones. But at the door she turned. "Is it true? What that lady said? Shazara?"

Gavin turned in the big tub to look at her. "What did she say?"

"Oh, sir. I'm sorry, sir," the girl said, blushing to the roots of her hair. "The lady said that… that you have a lover."

Gavin turned back around. "She's a Cappellian. She'd know, wouldn't she?"

"Yes, sir. That's true, sir," the girl said, but from much closer. Something came onto view over his right shoulder. "Here's your towel."

Gavin turned around again and took it from her. What had come over the girl? She had never called him sir before and all the casual friendly off the last few hours had disappeared. He thanked her, but stared into her beet red face until she fled. At least she closed the door.

He got out and dressed, his memories of the day chilled by the girl's strange behavior.

In the inn yard Freyja was waiting for him beside a smiling Leon. "What," she gestured to his drying things, "is the meaning of this?"

He refused to be intimidated. "I thought I could get ready for the Quest by myself this time."

"That's not what I meant."

"There's no harm done Freyja," Leon said with a laugh. "All he did was spend the day flirting with a Barmaid. A young one, but then so is he."

Leon reached out and ruffled Gavin hair. Gavin repressed a sigh. The man meant well. Freyja was not so easily appeased. "She was in your bath."

There was no point arguing with her. "Think whatever you like."

He brushed past her and entered the inn. The girl was working next to her mother in the kitchen and she whispered sorry as he passed. He didn't care. His sister wasn't mad about the girl. She was mad that he'd taken the initiative, that he'd done something, anything on his own.

"Gavin," Tyr hailed him from a table, "where were you last night?"

"Out."

Leon laughed and Dameon said, "The boy's growing up."

Shazara smiled at him wickedly and then turned to the others and said, "We are still looking for a Mage. They've all seemed to have gone into hiding."

"Bartimus says he has the Golden Orb." Gavin as he took a seat at the table. "The Mages are trying to figure out if it's the real thing. He's promised it to them if no Mage leaves Zoran's Gate for two weeks."

"By then it will be too late." Leon rubbed his hands through his grey hair.

"That's the general idea."

"Hey, Gavin," asked Tyr, "how do you know this?"

Gavin glanced up into the faces around him. Tyr, Leon, Dameon, Shazara, and Freyja all waited for the answer. "You don't think I've been off playing these last two days, do you?"

"Gavin," Freyja said with urgency, "You have to stay away from Mages. Promise me you'll stay away from Mages."

Shazara pouted. "How is it you got that information? I've been trying to seduce a Mage for years."

"Mages aren't celibate by choice." Gavin turned his back on his sister, "but sleeping with a woman as beautiful as you might just kill them. Try a female Mage next time."

Shazara laughed and got to her feet.

"Where are you going?" asked Tyr.

She laughed again. "I've got to see if it's really that simple."

"Well, that's it for her," Dameon watched Shazara climb the stairs then turned to the table. "Now what will we do about this latest development?"

"The Mages are trying to locate it as we speak." Gavin felt like a part of the group for the first time. The feeling wouldn't last; it couldn't, but still… "If it's in Zoran's Gate, they will find it before morning. If it isn't, they will know Bartimus is lying."

"But what will they do if it's real?"

"What would any group of old men do to get their hands on eternal youth?"

The Innkeeper brought their food and everyone spent their time eating. Shazara came back downstairs when they were almost finished and took a few bites careful not to ruin her makeup. "I'm off."

"The Mages might be a little busy right now," Leon said, visibly admiring the view.

"I won't know until I try."

Dameon turned to Freyja. "Are woman really attracted to perfumed, made up people?"

"How should I know? Gavin, who did you talk to? You mustn't go near the Mages."

"I go to Western Square all the time. I've even gone with you."

"With someone is fine, but not alone. You shouldn't go anywhere alone."

"Why? Because they want my Magic?" Gavin's anger overflowed. "Well I gave some away yesterday. If I keep this up, I might finish growing before I'm thirty."

"Gavin!"

He walked out into the night. Behind him he heard Leon and Tyr trying to calm her down. Dameon would probably be following him in a minute. But he would think Gavin was headed west, so Gavin headed southeast as quickly as he could. Caoimhghín place was almost due east, but the streets were still crowded enough for Dameon to find out which way Gavin had gone.

Caoimhghín's room was empty when he got there. But then the sun was still up. Maybe they hadn't eaten yet. Or maybe his dad would keep him there all night. Gavin picked up the book and finished the story he was on. The king's people were much more outraged that a woman was among the king's men than they were that the king loved one of his bodyguards.

Was it really all right that Gavin loved Caoimhghín? He did love him. That's what these feelings meant. Right?

The next story was of a Mage, a Prince, and a Warrior. The Prince sends his best Warrior to find the Mage who will grant his greatest desire. After many adventures the Warrior brings the Mage back, but the Mage refuses to do the Prince's bidding and is locked in a tower. The Warrior visits him bringing him food and books and keeping him company.

It was a tragic tale—if you saw the Prince as the Hero and not the Villain. The story was told with overwhelming sympathy for the young tyrant who wanted his own way. At the end the Warrior and Mage sadly leavethe country.

If Gavin was the Warrior he wouldn't be sad. Leaving home wasn't that bad. And being with the One You Love was not a fate worse than death.

The room was too dark to start another story. The fire, which had burst into flames when Gavin entered the room, was dying and he found no lamps or candles. Gavin couldn't even remember what lit the room the night before. The bowl on the table glowed, but when Gavin looked in, he only saw clear liquid. He threw himself on the bed. Burying his head in the pillows, he breathed in Caoimhghín scent. This made his longing even greater.

Maybe Caoimhghín was on his way home right now. If Gavin followed the path he took this morning, they were sure to meet.

But if Dameon found him, Gavin would have to go back to the inn. He didn't think he could face Freyja tonight.

Gavin looked out the window. He watched the people moving through the streets. Some wandered, some hurried, some in group, a few by themselves. One such caught Gavin's eye. When the figure looked into the window, Gavin rush down the stairs to meet him.

But as Gavin opened the front door, Caoimhghín was hailed by a stranger. Well not completely a stranger. Gavin was fairly sure that that tall, skinny man was working for Bartimus. Caoimhghín shrugged the man off and mounted the stairs, kissing Gavin as he entered the building.

He pulled Gavin up the stairs after him and didn't stop until they were both in his room with the door closed. "I thought I'd never get away. My dad knows you're with me. I didn't tell him. He asked if you are the reason I'm so happy. I think I gave myself away."

Gavin's heart stopped beating. "What did he say? About us?"

"He said if I'm happy, then even if it's the true Golden Orb, he wouldn't care if they lost it. But I think he's lying."

Gavin sank down onto the bed as Caoimhghín continued, "He thinks you being with me is a good thing. He's been worried that some ambitious Mage will go rouge and steal you."

"Freyja is worried about that."

"She should be, I guess." Caoimhghín, laid down on by Gavin. "Or at least she was right to be cautious. Now you've got me to protect you."

"Was I really in that much danger?" Gavin turned to get a better look at his lover. Caoimhghín looked tired. And older, older than this morning, older than yesterday, almost as old as Leon.

"Having someone force magic from you isn't very pleasant."

"Did I hurt you when I forced magic into you?"

Caoimhghín looked up into Gavin's face. "It didn't hurt. It was more like drowning. Like trying to drink from a fountain when the water is flowing fast and you can't swallow fast enough to breathe."

"Sorry," Gavin stroked Caoimhghín's damp hair from his sweaty forehead. "That doesn't sound pleasant."

"It wasn't as bad as it sounds." Caoimhghín took Gavin's hand and rubbed it against his cheek. "When I thought I really had drowned, I found that I didn't have to breathe."

"I'll be more careful this time." Gavin closed the distance between their bodies.

Hours later, Gavin insisted Caoimhghín light a lamp of some kind so Gavin could make certain that Caoimhghín was really completely well. "I won't be able to sleep until I'm sure."

Caoimhghín laughed and did as he bid. Indeed, Caoimhghín was healthy and young, younger than this morning, barely more than a boy. "We better be careful. I don't want you to get so young that we can no longer…." Gavin stopped in embarrassment. "By the way, how is it that you are the Cappellian Mage? You don't look at all like Shazara."

"I'm Cappellian by adoption." Caoimhghín pulled Gavin back down beside him. "My dad's near death experience left a bad taste in his mouth. I didn't even meet him until I was nearly thirty.

"Although," he said with a smile, "I looked twelve. My mother, as much as she'd have liked to care for me when I was little, was simply too ill. I was raised by her nephew's family. Cappellians don't discriminate when it comes to bedding others, and they do know how to care for the resulting children.

"She visited me once she was well enough to travel, but she's never been my real mother; we cannot touch each other without pain. My real mother has always been the woman willing to put off her own pleasures and needs to care for a baby that never grew up."

Gavin pulled his lover across him. "She died."

"Yes." Caoimhghín’s eyes filled with tears that dropped against Gavin's chest. "She died of old age. All the cousins I was raised with are old. They will die soon and I'll be alone."

"No." Gavin wiped the tears off his lover's face with a corner of the sheet. "You'll never be alone again."

Gavin soothed Caoimhghín to sleep and fell asleep himself to the soft sound of the younger, for now, man's breathing.

The next morning, they decided to go back to bed after breakfast; neither had a place they'd rather be. Gavin told Caoimhghín all the things that were wrong with the story he heard while waiting for him. But Caoimhghín had a lot of sympathy for the Prince. "If you don't care for the ones you love properly, than you can easily lose them."

That was true. Look how hard Freyja tried to care for him, but the harder she worked the more oppressed he felt. He knew she loved him; that was what kept him… He really couldn't say 'nice to her' or even 'understanding'—look how he'd treated her yesterday.

Caoimhghín ordered lunch when their stomachs began to rumble. After they ate, Caoimhghín consulted the silver bowl and Gavin put his boots on. "I've got to go apologize to my sister. And tell her about you."

"Tell them to start packing. I'll go Questing with you, but I want to be a permanent member. As permanent as you."

"What about the Golden Orb?"

"We can't find it or anything close. Yesterday I found something, but it wasn't strong enough to be the orb even if the orb was only as tenth as powerful as legend says. Whatever it was wasn't even as powerful as you."

Gavin caressed his lover's child-smooth cheek. "Maybe I'm the Golden Orb."

"Don't even joke about that." Caoimhghín took his hand. "You're precious enough to me on your own without a bunch old Mages fighting me for you."

On the trip home, Gavin tried to think of the best way to break the news to Freyja: he had a lover, that lover was a man, and not just a man, but a Mage as well. Maybe he should just tell Leon he'd found the group a Mage.

In Wright's Square, a market was in full swing. Shazara stood out in her bright silks. She smiled and gestured Gavin over. She wanted to tell him of her latest conquest. She wouldn't half this smug if last night was a failed attempt.

But Gavin never made it to her side. One second he was walking across the crowed square and the next he was laying on a floor, bound hand and foot. Sunlight came through cracks between the large doors not far from him. The room was full of boxes and barrels. Maybe a warehouse. Or a store room.

The tall, skinny man he's seen last night came around a stack of boxes. "Our Mage said you'd be awake. Stay quiet or we will knock you out again. We're keeping you here until that Cappellian knocks off his Hero stuff."

Another man came up behind him. "Do you really think that Mage will do what the Boss wants? I wouldn't, for him."

The thin man ushered the other back around the stack. "That's why we leave the thinking to the Boss."

Gavin refused to panic. He'd get out of here. Did these men really think that Caoimhghín could sit still when he was in danger?

Hey wait.

They hadn't mentioned Leon at all. Hooray of nosy fellow Questers and overprotective siblings. Now it was only a question of who would show first: Caoimhghín, Leon and Company, or Bartimus.

Gavin struggled around to a more comfortable sitting position, out of the path of the door should it burst open. He'd just eaten. He might get thirsty, but not really parched before his rescuers appeared. But this room would get old quick. His captors came to check on him several more times. He ignored them. When the sky between the cracks was pink, they came again; Bartimus had arrived. He smiled down and grabbed Gavin's chin. "What makes you so special that a Mage would risk the Golden Orb for you?"

"Hey Boss," said the second man, "I heard the Cappellian Mage never ages, maybe he doesn't need it."

Bartimus turned to his underling, but he didn't let go of Gavin's face. His fingers would leave bruises. "But the University controls all of them with an iron hand. He shouldn't have rebelled."

He shoved Gavin's head back as he released his chin.

The door burst.

Leon stood in all his Hero glory, backed by Tyr with his great sword, and Dameon with his knives. What an entrance, but that was Leon's way. Gavin had just never seen it from this side.

Bartimus shot to his feet and rush behind his underlings. "Get them!"

The battle was barely engaged when Bartimus's Mage stepped out, his spell ready. But that did him no good. Caoimhghín was at his elbow. The spell went wild and never landed; both Mage and Magic collapsed.

Caoimhghín crawled through the fighting men, knelt in front of Gavin, and loosened his ropes with a touch of his hand. "Sorry, it took me so long. I was waiting until Bartimus arrived, so I could catch him red handed, but just as I was coming in Leon showed up. I didn't think the best time to be introduced was right after I'd ruined his entrance.

Gavin smiled. "Nothing a few kisses can't cure."

As Gavin wrapped his arms around Caoimhghín neck, he noticed his brother had beaten his opponent and was looking at him. He pointed towards the back of the room. "Bartimus's getting away."

Gavin let the rest of world set itself right as Caoimhghín's kisses sent shivers of relief into his stiff muscles. Caoimhghín laughed at his sighs. "What kind of Mage would I be if I wasn't also a Healer?"

"I just hope you don't kiss everyone well." Gavin felt so good he could hardly sit up.

"Healing works best when I'm touching the person, a hand to the forehead works just as well. But it's not as much fun.

"Um," said Dameon, wiping and putting away the last of his knives. You would be… Keeveen?"

Caoimhghín turned at the sound of his name, but Gavin grabbed Caoimhghín, holding Caoimhghín back against his chest, Gavin's head resting on his lover's right shoulder. The others gathered around, looking from Dameon to Gavin and Caoimhghín, who nodded.

"How'd you know?" demanded Freyja.

Dameon shrugged. "Sometimes Gavin talks in his sleep."

Gavin blushed, but no one seemed to notice. Leon took the last couple of steps to Gavin's feet and held out his hand. Was he trying to help them up or just shake Caoimhghín's hand?

Gavin put out his hand and Leon lifted both of them to their feet as if they were light as feathers. "This is Caoimhghín," said Gavin to Leon. "He's going to join our Quest."

A smile erupted across Leon's face. "All right!"

The others nodded their hellos, but Shazara squealed with glee and threw her arms around both young men. "I'm so happy."

"We noticed." Gavin disengaged the woman from them. Caoimhghín smiled impishly, "She's just like my mother."

"Oh, so cute." she planted a kiss on Caoimhghín's cheek, leaving a red mark that made Gavin unreasonably jealous.

Tyr patted them both on the backs hard enough that Caoimhghín, who wasn't used to it, fell forward. Dameon caught him. Leon came back from talking to Freyja "Are you packed? We leave at dawn."

"I'm ready." Caoimhghín waved his limp sack. Gavin smiled at his fellow Questers uncertain expressions. Freyja put an arm around Gavin. "Leon said everything's fine, but…"

"Thank you," Caoimhghín said, "for such good taking care of Gavin until I could meet him. My dad says you're legendary. No one else could have held off so many Magic grubbing Mages for so long."

Freyja opened her mouth then blushed. "He's my brother."

"I wish I had a sister like you. My mother thought I was enough to handle alone."

Dameon interrupted. "Are we all going back to the inn? Yes? Then Leon, we're going to have to change our sleeping arrangements."

"Your right," said Leon. "Four in a room is too many."

"But won't both boys fit in the bed?" asked Freyja. "It won't really be that much worse."

"That's the problem, Freyja dear." Dameon glanced at Tyr, who had blushed to his ears. "Tyr and I got a small sample the other night. Neither of us wants to see the main course first hand." With that he led the Questers out.

Gavin felt his face heat up but Caoimhghín smiled. Gavin took his hand and they followed his friends to the inn.

 


End file.
